


Succubus

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, mummy on the orient express, post-episode, whouffaldi, whouffle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not like she's ever going to know, it's not like his resolve will break if he lets himself enjoy the thought of her just once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Succubus

He starts as he means to go on, with River. It might be Clara who got him into this state, but she's off-limits, absolutely forbidden for anything like this. So he thinks of River instead.

He drags up a memory that isn't tinged with sadness, summons her into pretended existence. He looks down and sees her blonde hair bobbing as she sucks him, that time they went to Titan for the weekend. 

River drags her mouth from him slowly, presses a quick kiss to the tip, takes him back in. She's wicked, always has been and it's heavenly. Maybe Clara...

He chases the unwanted thought away and focusses on the echo of his wife. River swirls her tongue just so, and back in the real world he touches his cock where the heat of her makes contact. Her hair falls around her face, dark and... 

No, not her, that's against the rules. But River is slipping away and he needs someone to take her place. He runs through centuries of lovers, trying to find one that doesn't remind him of Clara Oswald and her sexy little...

He stills his hand, considers giving up but he's gone too far to leave himself frustrated. 

Clara smiles down at him, as tempting as ever. She's got a boyfriend, she's found someone else, she was never really his to start with. She flexes muscles the real Clara probably isn't even aware of and his hand moves almost of its own volition. Slowly, up and down, tight and hot. 

He tries to push her out of his mind. To think of Amy, or Rory, or Amy _and_ Rory. But there's Clara still perched happily on his cock like she belongs there. No one else will do tonight, it seems. 

Just this once, maybe. It's not like she's ever going to know, it's not like his resolve will break if he lets himself enjoy the thought of her just once.

She's wearing the top half of those stupid pink pyjamas she took to the Orient Express. The buttons down the front are unfastened and the shirt hangs loose around her body. She moves her hips and pushes her breasts forwards at the same time. She's gorgeous, she really is. 

Her hands move across her body as she touches herself, showing off. The fingers of her right hand move across parted lips and the left snakes down between her legs to where their bodies meet. 

She moves faster as he thrusts into his own hand, her eyes dark with desire and her skin flushed. She closes her eyes, bites her lower lip, tosses her head back and begs for him to touch her. He runs a hand up her thigh and over to her clitoris, thumb finding the little bundle of nerve-endings and teasing it until she cries out. 

She steadies herself with a hand on his chest, moves up and down and forwards and back. She's going to drive him crazy if she doesn't stop, if she doesn't slow down. She meets his gaze with a confident stare and says, “Come.” And he does. He'd do anything she asked and this is easy, just a few quick strokes and he's there. 

She vanishes to whatever corner of his mind she came from, leaving him lying on his back with his hearts pounding as he gasps for breath. The haze of pleasure keeps the guilt at bay for a while at least.

The TARDIS dims the lights obligingly and a damp cloth has appeared from nowhere for cleaning himself up. He doesn't mind, he got used to her watching centuries ago. From the raised pitch of the engines and the slight swirl in her telepathic field he's fairly sure she got something from it, but he's never resented her for that. 

Next time he won't think of Clara, next time he'll think of someone safe. He'll continue like he always does, holding her at arm's length and looking away when it all gets too much. He's good at not getting what he wants.


End file.
